Day by Day

Chapter 23- This is it.

So I think I lied. I saw one thing that proves there is some bit of good in the world.

I saw this little boy trip on the carpet. I saw him fall. I saw his brother was with him. I saw his brother pick him up and hold him on his lap until he stopped crying.

 I saw that, and I saw there was some small bit of good. I know there isn't good lying around to be picked up. But there might be a shred here and there. I think there is.

I could try to be good; I can try really hard. I can try to make myself a good person. I can really really try to make myself a good person. Why am I still not a good person?

There is a reason that there is only one real way to be a good person. It's not by actually being good.

 I don't mean there is no point in being good. I just mean anybody can be good for a day. It really can't be as hard as it looks. And being good for a day doesn't automatically make me a good person.

It's a thing with the heart. You know, all that realizing your potential stuff.

It's realizing I can't be good on my own, realizing I'm not good enough to be great. It's realizing that I am not great enough to be good. I'm good by realizing I need help to be good. I'm good, I get good by realizing that oh, I do might just maybe need God. Dear evil, I don't think you're good enough to own the world. You aren't dear. Nobody should own the world.

****

 Where were we? Oh yeah, I was with Jason sitting on the wet curb. I was crying and blowing my snot into his shoulder. That's what I was doing.

And he, what was he doing? I think he just let me cry it out until I got too tired to really cry.

It feels like he cares about something more than his own little life.

Before he had come, I felt that people were walking around me, and they were glad that they weren't me. They were completely right. I was wishing I wasn't me either. But being me really isn't that hard; it's just as hard as being somebody else.

This really isn't easy for me. Does it get easier? Does it get harder?

I'm too tired to get up. Maybe I'd rather sit here in the rain. I like rain, sometimes. It's wet. They say the farmers always need the rain; I hope the farmers are happy tonight. The rain is dripping off of me in drops. It drips off my finger tips. When I was a kid in the shower, it would drip off of my finger tips too. I would pretend that I had power over the water; it would be kind of cool if I did.

No, I don't have power over the water; it just drips off my fingers, just like it does for everyone else.

I don't really think Jason likes having the water drip off of his fingers. He wants me to stand up, but I don't want to. Maybe the rain will bring flowers and green grass. I like flowers.

Jason picks me up; he has been out in the cold rain as much as I have, but he feels warm. He is carrying me wedding style down the sidewalk. I didn't realize how comfortable this would feel; I didn't realize how comfortable he feels. If I did, I would have let him carry me around a lot more.

 The rain streaming down my face feels cold. I have Jason's jacket on.

He puts me in his car, in a seat right next to him. Hum. Is this what it feels like to be awake during a dream? I've never been awake during a dream. Now I can't be dreaming all the time, can I?

I'm not dreaming now. I feel cold. A person can't really feel anything a dream, and I am feeling. This must be real. Jason is driving. Where is he driving me?